The day Liam Sterling’s underground romance blew up and trended at number one on Twitter, our shipping fandom was an absolute wasteland of tears. Because the girlfriend exposed in the photos... wasn’t me. 1 When the paparazzi video of Liam’s secret relationship hit the internet, my manager Dave was practically glowing with joy. For no other reason than this being the perfect opportunity to “convert” the fandom. The ship name for Liam and me was “Starbrook,” and right now, that tag was a chaotic mess of grief. Some people were cursing Liam for being a jerk, others were crying about how they had wasted their emotional investment, vowing never to ship actors again. And then there were the people who pitied me. They declared they were unstanning Liam and would only support me from now on. A few big fan accounts were still desperately trying to hold the line, arguing that since Liam hadn’t released an official statement, things could still turn around. Some fans were even analyzing the grainy, leaked video frame by frame, desperately trying to match the mystery girl’s outfit and silhouette to me. But unfortunately, it wasn’t me. I clicked on the video and watched it. It was short, only about a dozen seconds. A girl heavily bundled up in a jacket and wearing a face mask wrapped her arms around Liam’s waist as they got into a car parked by the curb. Then, they drove straight back to the Sterling family’s private estate. I watched it over and over again, until Dave explicitly warned me: “I’ve already heard from industry insiders. Liam’s team is planning to confirm the relationship, but to protect the girl, they aren’t going to reveal her identity.” Dave couldn’t control the smirk on his face. “We’re just going to sit back and reap the benefits. You don’t have to do a single thing, and an army of fans will shower you with sympathy. Later, I’ll leak a few PR articles about how heartbroken and haggard you look. Say nothing. We’ll weaponize the angst to turn those shippers into your hardcore solo fans, plus grab a wave of general public sympathy. It’s a massive win.” He looked at me with burning ambition, fully intending to mold me into the perfect victim. I didn’t say a word. 2 Eight hours after the paparazzi video went viral, I refreshed my feed and saw Liam’s official statement. He apologized to his fans with genuine sincerity. He admitted that he was indeed in a relationship, but because his partner wasn't in the entertainment industry, he wanted to protect her privacy and keep her identity hidden. He asked for the fans' understanding. The top comment under his post was from a fan asking: So you never loved Riley Brooks? All that protection and sweetness, all the care and affection you showed her... was it all fake? He replied directly to that comment with a single sentence: It was just editing. Please don't take it seriously. Liam and I had been the number-one trending ship for ages. Our fans dedicated their lives to analyzing every variety show, behind-the-scenes clip, and drama episode for "crumbs," editing together diabetes-inducing videos to prove our love was real. They always said, "If there is only one real couple in Hollywood, it has to be Starbrook." I completely understood why the shippers were having a meltdown. They had invested real feelings into this for so long, only to suddenly realize that the leading man in this fairytale never intended to give the rose to the leading lady. I sat under the massive chandelier of the makeup room, staring at the words It was just editing. Please don't take it seriously, and felt a wave of dizziness wash over me. Because I had to admit the truth—the fans weren't the only ones who got too deep into the role. I did, too. But he had a girlfriend all along. All the protection, the care, the affection he showed on set and during press tours... it was all written off as "editing." The fans weren't the only ones suffering from unrequited delusions. I was, too. 3 I met Liam on the set of a massive epic fantasy series. Liam had been famous since he was a teenager. He came from an incredibly powerful, wealthy family and only acted because he genuinely loved the craft. He was low-key and humble. After starring in a high school coming-of-age movie at sixteen, he skyrocketed to fame, and the media spent a decade trying—and failing—to dig up dirt on his background. He had almost zero scandals and was famous for his professionalism. I had idolized him since I was sixteen, looking up to him the way a fan looks up to a superstar. That was until I was 23, fresh out of NYU Tisch, and walked onto the same set as him. It was a big-budget fantasy show. He was the male lead, and I was, at best, the fourth female lead. I had very little screen time. I played his young apprentice mage, quietly harboring a secret crush on him, following him everywhere. My shining moment in the script was sacrificing myself to take a fatal blow meant for him. The day I finally met Liam was my first day on set. He was tall, lean, and somehow even more handsome in person than on screen. He practically glowed in the crowd. Everyone had that jittery excitement of meeting an idol. The extras and crew were whispering on the sidelines, but no one dared to approach him. The first time I spoke to him was at the cast and crew kickoff dinner. Dave dragged me over to toast the director and producers. Liam was sitting next to the director, holding a cup of tea, looking down and listening quietly to the director speak. It's hard to describe the feeling of that moment. We were in a loud, glamorous room full of networking and chatter, yet he was as calm as the tea in his hands, wrapped in his own invisible barrier that kept the noise at bay. I was so nervous during the toast that I stuttered through my introduction. The director laughed and pointed me out to Liam. "This is your little apprentice. The one who dies for you later. You two have scenes together next week." He looked up, gave me a soft smile, and politely nodded. "Nice to meet you." My palms were sweating the entire time. 4 Our first time talking alone was right before our first scene together. It was a simple scene, but this was Liam Sterling—the man I had looked up to since I was sixteen. I hid in a corner with my script, pacing and muttering my few lines over and over again until I heard a laugh behind me. It was a warm, forgiving laugh. I turned around and saw Liam standing there, watching me. He was very tall, and I was sitting on an apple box, so he was looking down at me, but it didn't feel intimidating at all. Maybe it was the effortless, deep-rooted good manners he possessed that made people feel comfortable. His tone was incredibly gentle. "Don't be nervous. It's a very simple scene. Just relax." My heart pounded like a drum. It was the overwhelming thrill of seeing your longtime idol standing right in front of you. I looked at him nervously and asked, "When we're done shooting this, could I... get your autograph?" We gradually got to know each other. He was someone who naturally kept his distance, but everything about him screamed "good upbringing." When interacting with the cast and crew, he was politely detached but incredibly considerate, never once making life hard for the staff. Yet, no matter how aloof his natural aura was, the moment the director yelled "Action," he instantly slipped into character—becoming the bold, charismatic mentor. No matter how viral our "Starbrook" ship became later on, the truth was, during the six months I spent on that set until I wrapped, there was no secret romance. No hidden sparks. Our ship only blew up because of an accident. 5 It happened while the fantasy series was airing, a full year after we finished shooting. The female lead of the show, Vanessa Thorne, got caught having an affair with a married studio executive. The executive's wife found out, and suddenly, hit pieces and leaked dirt on Vanessa were everywhere. Among the widely circulated leaks was a behind-the-scenes video of Vanessa and me. It was a scene where she was supposed to push me into a freezing river. She seemed to be in a terrible mood that day, and I was shoved into the icy water over and over again. Filming a summer scene in the dead of winter is pure agony, especially when you have to repeatedly plunge into a freezing river. She curled her lips into a smile. She had the face of an innocent heroine, but her smile made my skin crawl. Without a shred of apology, she looked down at me and said, "Sorry, I'm just not feeling it yet. Let's do another take, okay?" We belonged to the same talent agency, but she was the reigning queen of the company. I couldn't afford to cross her. I stayed silent, shivering uncontrollably as I dragged myself out of the freezing water. Just as we were setting up for the next take, Liam happened to walk by. He had incredible self-control. He was the kind of person who could get angry without ever raising his voice. He looked at my face, which was bruised and blue from the cold, and then turned to Vanessa with a polite, icy detachment. "How about you get in the water yourself to 'find the feeling'? It might actually help improve your acting." Vanessa's face flushed crimson from humiliation, but she didn't dare offend Liam. She had to swallow her pride. The video ended with Liam reaching a hand out to me, saying, "Get up. Go change your clothes. I'll talk to the director. We're cutting this scene for today." I looked up at him from the muddy ground, looking exactly like a stray dog staring at its rescuer. At first, the comments under that leaked video were normal. People were mocking Vanessa's fake nice-girl persona crumbling. But gradually, someone left a comment that started it all: Does anyone else think these two have insane chemistry? Maybe it was because the massive status gap between Liam and me perfectly fit the Prince and Cinderella trope. He was too perfect, and I checked every box of the underdog. Everyone loves a story about being saved. At first, it was just harmless jokes. None of us intentionally tried to push a fake romance. Liam didn't need to, and my team didn't dare try to leech off his fame—especially since I was a total nobody in Hollywood. People were mostly just having fun playing matchmaker. That was until someone made a deadly serious fan-edit of our characters: the timid apprentice who quietly loved her mentor, following him faithfully until she died in his arms. The video was gut-wrenchingly sad, paired with a hauntingly tragic song, and it completely broke the internet. And so, the internet started digging through our interviews and press tours. The moment that pulled thousands of fans down the rabbit hole was during a press junket for a streaming platform. The host handed out cute plushies to the main cast. I was the lowest on the call sheet, so I was seated at the very edge of the stage. But at the end of the interview, before the cameras cut, Liam held up his plushie, leaned past the female lead, the second lead, and the third lead, and handed it directly to me. "You younger girls usually like these things, right?" he asked. Then there was the reality show. Because I wasn't famous, I barely got any screen time. But eagle-eyed fans noticed something in the background of another guest's shot: Liam, ignoring the burning heat, using his bare hands to peel a roasted sweet potato for me, before dropping the softest, sweetest part of the core right into my bowl. The aloof, untouchable A-lister, and the D-list actress he spoiled rotten. That was how the fandom was born. But it turned out... it was all just a giant misunderstanding. 6 The next time I saw Liam was a week after his relationship was exposed. It was a pre-scheduled cast interview. Normally, only the big stars attend these promo events. The only reason I was invited was, undeniably, because our ship was so incredibly popular. But with his secret relationship now out in the open, my presence was deeply awkward. I saw him backstage before we went on. He had a private dressing room. I only caught a glimpse of him through the cracked door as I walked by. He was in profile, talking to his publicist, looking calm and at peace. He didn't seem affected by the media circus at all. He had been in this industry long enough. Fan culture and internet traffic didn't dictate his life anymore. His talent was his armor. I looked away. I played the role of a beautiful, decorative vase on stage. The producers had scrapped all the ship-baiting questions, and I tried my best to stay silent and invisible. But Liam, acting as if nothing had changed, continued to look out for me. He tossed conversational cues my way and made sure the camera caught me. The hosts exchanged knowing looks, and finally, chasing the inevitable clickbait, they asked about his love life. His expression shifted almost instantly. The sharp, cool lines of his face softened into something incredibly tender. Just thinking about her seemed to pull a smile to his lips. "I never intended to hide it," he said. "She just didn't want the public exposure." "We're childhood sweethearts. We've been together for ten years." "When I was sixteen and defied my family to become an actor, she was the one who supported me. Through every low point and every highlight of my life, she's been there. She is my light." The camera panned to my face. I held my smile perfectly, cheering and clapping along with everyone else, showing absolutely no cracks in my armor. That is, until the very end of the interview, when the show decided to give Liam a "surprise" for the sake of ratings. It was a pre-recorded segment. A video tour of my college dorm room at NYU. The walls were plastered with Liam Sterling. Posters of his first movie, tickets to his fan events, cutouts from magazines. And then came an interview with my old college roommate—someone I barely spoke to—acting like my best friend. "Oh, Riley? She's been obsessed with Liam since she was sixteen! She used to say Liam was her light. The only reason she became an actress was to follow that light." Liam looked over at me in surprise. The host smiled politely, but her words were laced with venom. She asked Liam, "Did you know your little apprentice was your biggest fan?" Liam shook his head. "I had no idea." He paused, then added, "She never mentioned it." The host laughed, digging the trap deeper. "We all assumed you took such good care of her on set because you knew she was a super-fan! You're usually known for being pretty distant, so we're all very curious... why were you so protective of her?" The entire studio seemed to hold its breath. He smiled—open, handsome, and completely devoid of any romantic undertones. He answered simply, "She has a certain spark to her. It reminded me of myself when I was younger." He paused, smiled again, and added, "Plus, she's the exact same age as my little sister. We just clicked." He was so painfully honest that the room went dead silent. Eventually, everyone forced a laugh, and the interview wrapped up awkwardly. I sat in the corner like a prop, trembling uncontrollably. I knew exactly what was going to happen. Those two quotes of his were going to be spliced together in a thousand different videos. Liam's fans were going to use them to repeatedly slap the "Starbrook" shippers in the face. I knew the massive gap between us. I never dared to demand anything. I just wanted to quietly guard my tiny, insignificant, embarrassingly out-of-reach fantasy. Before he started treating me differently, I never had any delusions. He was the one who handed me that pathetic sliver of hope. But the light I had chased since I was sixteen had a light of his own. And my closely guarded, decade-long secret had just been ripped open, gutted, and put on display under the blazing studio lights for everyone to see. This pathetic, one-sided crush of mine was going to be dragged through the internet, dissected like a dead fish, making me look like an absolute clown for everyone to judge. But in front of the cameras, I had to keep smiling. A polite, flawless, impenetrable smile, no matter how many times I was scrutinized or asked about Liam Sterling. 7 The first time I saw Liam on a screen when I was 16, it wasn't a movie or a TV show. It was an interview. At the time, my mother had just jumped off a building and killed herself after finding out my dad was having an affair. I was suffering from severe clinical depression. I slit my wrists and submerged myself in the bathtub. The small TV across from the bathroom was playing Liam's interview. He was 20 years old. He had experienced the rollercoaster of Hollywood—skyrocketing to fame with his first movie, followed by a brutal dry spell, before finally winning Best Actor with a gritty indie drama. It was a very raw, deep interview. He looked striking, his eyes intense and mature. He carried an aura of quiet stability, the kind of calm that only comes after surviving massive highs and lows. I don't remember what the host asked, but I will never forget what he said next. He smiled and said, "I get lost sometimes, too. I've wanted to quit a million times. But then I realized, no matter how hard things get, if you just grit your teeth and survive it, you'll look back one day and realize it was just a bump in the road." "There is nothing in this world to be afraid of. We only get to do this once. As long as you stay alive, you have infinite possibilities." I don't know where the courage came from, but suddenly, I wanted to stay alive long enough to see karma destroy my father and his mistress. So, soaking wet and bleeding, I dragged myself out of the tub, found some gauze, wrapped my wrist, and dialed 911. For a very long time after that, Liam Sterling was the light that saved me. He was my psychological anchor. Until the day I finally stood in front of him. How could my heart not race? How could I not have delusions? When you cross mountains and oceans to finally stand in front of the person who saved your life... When you discover that the real him is somehow even better than the version in your head... When he looks at you differently on set, on reality shows, in crowds, and specifically takes care of you... Even if the moon doesn't belong to you, for a brief second, it feels like the moonlight is shining down just for you. With so many people editing romance videos of us, writing fanfiction, praying for us to get together, you slip into the illusion. It feels like if you just reach out your hand, you could touch the moon. It felt that close. But it was time to wake up from this one-woman play. After the show wrapped, Liam actually connected me with a few casting directors. He even gave me his private phone number, telling me to reach out if I ever needed anything. The director happened to be there when he gave it to me, and he looked shocked. "Liam, you really do adore your little apprentice." The director turned to me with a grin. "Not many people get Liam's private number. He seems friendly, but his standards are sky-high. Kid, you better hold on tight to your mentor." See? All those mixed signals gave me false hope. But to him, he truly just saw me as a little sister, an established veteran looking out for a rookie he respected. He said I reminded him of his sixteen-year-old self—obsessed with acting, pure in his dedication. So he wanted to help me. But he didn't know that the thing I was obsessed with, the thing I was dedicating myself to... was never acting. It was him. I stared blankly at our text thread. Honestly, I could have pretended nothing was wrong. I could have kept playing the innocent apprentice, utilizing his admiration to stay close to him. Maybe one day, I could have used his complete lack of defenses to climb my way to the top. But a long, long time later, I finally replied to his last text. I was direct and entirely honest. "Liam, you don't need to look out for me anymore. I feel guilty." I once read a book where a character is told to just have a clear conscience, to ignore what people say, and let the rumors bounce off her. And she replies, “But what if my conscience isn't clear?” You are just a generous senior actor helping a rookie. But Liam, what if my conscience isn't clear? What if I want more? I think Liam understood. He never texted back. And after that, he never looked out for me again. The moon is supposed to hang high in the sky, meant only to be looked at from afar.
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